Hearts Of The Fallen
by ElenaJaye
Summary: Dean and Sam have successfully averted the Apocalypse. Castiel is nowhere to be seen, and there is a new threat rising to the East. And to top it all off, Dean's eyes have fallen onto the luscious Angel, a bar-tender from Los Angeles.
1. Angel

"Ah my Princess, you 'av returned!"

The crooning french tones emanated across the busy room as a short man with a thin pencil moustache and an irritating overbite scurried towards the blonde beauty who had entered his domain. With an almost lazy smile on her face, she greeted him with air-kisses before slipping off the white mink coat she had swathed around her slender figure, tossing it carelessly to an assistant.

"Well of course I have, Dimitri," She replied in a soft, lilting voice. "I couldn't very well abandon my favourite photographer now, could I?" These words were accompanied with a light chuckle, which was echoed by several adoring assistants who were gazing at the woman with pure adoration in their eyes. And why wouldn't they?

After all, Angel Reyes was _the_ Model of the moment, with her waist length blonde curls, glittering brown eyes surrounded by long, curling eyelashes, a snub little nose, perfectly shaped lips, natural breasts and a figure every boy wished lived next door to him. She had everything she wanted in the palm of her hand, including the hottest boyfriend the world had ever met. She loved introducing him to everyone they met, showing off photos on her phone and regaling stories of their adventures together. His name just rolled off her tongue.

"And 'ow eez 'e?" Dimitri asked as he ushered Angel into a make-up chair. "Ze famous _boyfriend_?" A young Oriental woman dashed forward and began to dust powder onto Angel's flawless cheeks as she turned her head this way and that way to admire her beautiful appearance.

"Oh, he's fine. He's, you know, darling as always," She laughed daintily as she let her thoughts wander to him. His beautiful, penetrating eyes, his thick dark hair, his rough, almost gravelly voice. And his name that rolled off the tongue. "He's... He's..."

Even as she spoke, Angel could feel a cold chill running down her spine. The assistants packing their things ready to leave. The photographers conversing quietly in a corner. All of them staring, staring, staring. Staring at what?

With a shriek, Angel caught sight of her reflection. Her charred, burned hair hanging in clumps around her face. Bruises covered her face and chest, her clothes were torn and dirty. And all around her sympathy reigned. Sympathetic whispers, nods. Like anybody really cared.

* * *

Angel bolted up in bed with a jerk, her thin flannel nightshirt sticking to her slender, sweating frame. Gulping in the fresh air, she groped for her alarm clock and peered at the luminous numbers through sleepy eyes.

"Shi-iit," She groaned as the numbers 02:29 came into blurry focus. For the ninth night in a row she'd woken at that exact same time, always from the same dream. Groaning lightly, she placed the clock down and fell back onto the pillows, throwing her arms in random directions. She'd had recurring nightmares before, but those had made sense to her, whereas the current ones didn't. Her mind began to wander to the nightmare that had plagued her for nearly seven months, every single night without fail.

_Sitting in the hospital with cigarette burns on her arms, a broken nose, lacerations laddering her arms, cracked ribs, a dislocated jaw, the entire works. And a pair of weeping parents, claiming their unruly daughter had gotten into another fight at school with some kids older then she was. Naturally the Doctors believed them; after all, her Father was the Chief of Police and her Mother a well respected Lawyer. Why would anyone suspect otherwise?_

"Of course, that isn't a nightmare." Angel rolled onto her side and stared at the photo on her bedside table. The only photo she had of her parents, Antonia and Keith. It had been taken at their prom, and they'd looked so happy. They had their whole lives ahead of them, happy and in love. Where had it all gone wrong? "It's a memory. A memory of what you guys did to me." She swallowed hard as tears threatened to fall, her eyes stinging with the effort of not crying. She hadn't cried for her parents since she was ten years old. Why start now?

* * *

"Wow, babe you look like _hee-ell_!"

Ethan greeted Angel in the morning with a toasted muffin and a lukewarm mug of coffee as she stumbled into the kitchen sleepily, complaining about Ethan's dog lying on the stairs again. She mumbled something in response to his lovely greeting before slumping at the table and prodding her coffee mug ineffectively. Ethan rolled his eyes before sitting opposite her and adopting his "knowing" face.

"I swear if you don't drop that look you'll be spending the morning removing my muffin from your ass," Angel warned him. The comment sent Ethan into a hysterical moment of laughter as he slapped the table-top to further express his delight at Angel's Just-Woke-Up comment. Angel found it hard to fight a smile as she shook her head. She should have known that Ethan would have taken that in a completely sexual manner. "Seriously, I'm not in the mood to talk about it right now. Just suffice it to say, I'd sell my right arm for a decent nights sleep."

Ethan made a soft sympathetic noise as he ruffled Angel's slightly bushy blonde locks before planting a kiss on her forehead. "It'll get better Princess," He promised her gently before pushing the coffee mug against one of her palms. "Come on, drink up. Will called, he needs you in early today to cover the Cum Dumpster's shift. He'll pay you double plus over-time if you can get there before ten,"

Angel cast a glance around the kitchen and smiled lightly. It wasn't as if they needed the extra money; Ethan was currently working for the Editor-In-Chief of the largest Fashion Magazine this side of the Atlantic and was making a mint. Not to mention Angel's pretty generous wages from her boss at the club. But extra money meant she could get a new Prada outfit, or a new Gucci handbag. Recently Will had been dropping hints that Angel could make herself a killing on the stage. But working behind the bar and keeping her clothes on was a much preferred career for her. Not that she had anything against the girls who did strip, but she preferred to look classy, approacheable, normal.

Hurriedly Angel gulped down the now cold coffee before leaping to her feet and hurrying for the stairs, tripping over Ethan's Labrador in the process. Chance raised a lazy ear before resuming his sleep as Angel silently cursed the animal she loved so much.

* * *

"Angel-fucking-ina, what time do you call this lady?"

Angel grimaced at the sound of her full name elongated with a delicately placed swear-word from her ruddy cheeked Boss. She ran a hand through her freshly washed-and-straightened blonde locks before blowing a childish raspberry towards Will, who emitted a booming chortle as he weaved his way round the tables towards the bar Angel was approaching. "Thanks for coming in at such short notice, sweetheart. You're one of the few girls I can always rely on to be here on time. And sorry if I ruined your day," He added softly as Angel hopped behind the black marble bar and reached for the bottle of water Will aways left there for her. When she was working, Angel drank nothing but room temperature Evian as opposed to some of the girls who secretly necked shots like they were going out of style.

"My day _was _ going to consist of a manicure and pedicure, followed by a deep-tissue massage and some purple under-lights put into my hair. But coming to work so middle-aged men can leer over me on their lunch breaks is much more preferable," She remarked drily before unscrewing the bottle cap and draining a quarter of the contents, noting how Will became sheepish and scratched the back of his thick neck apologetically. "Will you know I love working here you big doofus," Angel laughed softly, shrugging off her short leather jacket as two young men entered the club and cast a quick glance around. One of them looked far too serious; all business by the looks of things. His companion on the other hand was looking incredibly excited, his handsome face sporting a very sexy grin. She swallowed hard and placed her bottle down behind the bar again before turning her attention to the glasses that needed stacking.

* * *

Dean's warm brown eyes fell onto the buxom blonde behind the bar, causing a wide grin to spread across his face as he nudged against Sam, indicating the woman as he did so. Sam raised an eyebrow before letting out his trademark half-laugh half-groan of despair, his long legs striding towards a table semi-close to the stage, watching as Dean made his way towards the bar. Female heads turned to stare at the young Adonis as he leant on the marble bar and cleared his throat, enjoying the view while he waited to catch the Bartenders attention.

Snug-fitting soft black leather pants clung to her slender hips and legs like a second skin, clinging to the outline of what could only be a G-string. Covering her torso was a cropped black t-shirt that was cut off high enough for him to see the ending of a tattoo that appeared to be in the shape of Angel wings. His mind drifted momentarily to Castiel and how little they'd seen of him recently. Since averting the Apocalypse and shoving Lucifer back into his cage, Castiel had been nowhere around no matter how many times Sam, Dean or Bobby called for him.

"Nice tattoo," He finally said when the girl still didn't turn around. "I dig chicks with tattoos," He added with a light wink as she turned to face him, flicking the small silver ring to the left side of her perfect pout with her tongue. "Name's Dean. And I'd like a Whisky on the rocks for me, and a martini for my friend over there," He thumbed towards Sam without looking round, his gaze too busy staring down the bartender's open cleavage.

"Unluckily for you, I don't dig men called Dean," Angel returned shortly as she reached for the required glasses, giving Dean a quick once-over. Of course she was just biting back at his remark, she could definitely dig a guy like him. Not too tall, beautifully built, handsome, deep eyes, a perfectly straight nose, beautifully white even teeth. Yep, this guy was definitely her type. "Does your friend want any specific martini?" She added in a more professional tone, not willing to upset the punter. Will wasn't exactly strict on that since most men who came into the club were half-drunk anyway, but she still adopted a professional manner around people who didn't look or smell particularly wasted.

"Uh, no he'll drink whatever's given to him," Dean replied off-handedly, still trying to tear his eyes away from Angel's inviting cleavage. "So, do you have a name? Or can I just call you Angel?" He grinned before flicking his gaze back to her face - just in time to catch a flicker of shock crossing her features. "I didn't mean to offend you. It's just, your tattoo looked like Angel wings. So I figured - ah you know what? Never mind, sorry."

"No, no it's okay," Angel placed the drinks infront of Dean and forced a soft smile to her face as she did so. "I'm Angelina. But you can call me Angel, _Dean_." She took the money he offered from his palm and dared to give him the slightest shadow of a wink before taking the money over to the till, battling the smile from her face as Dean took a sharp intake of breath and carried the drinks over to the table where Sam was busy working on his laptop, evidently oblivious to the throngs of women surrounding them in skimpy outfits.


	2. Castiel

**A.N: Stupidly short chapter! . But it's from Castiel's perspective, just a quick reflection over how he's really feeling. Etc etc. x3**

_If you were to ask me to sum up my life in as few words as possible, I could do it with just two._

_Dean Winchester._

_Ever since I pulled him from perdition and breathed new life into him, he has become the center of my Universe. In essence, he has become my world. I feel attached to Dean like I've never been attached to someone before. Almost like we are two kindred spirits, bound to one another for all of eternity through some unspoken seal, an unspoken contract that forbids us to let the other one go._

_He is my poison, and my antidote. I try to ignore his calls for help, but I cannot bring myself to do it. Dean needs me more then he knows. Perhaps even more then I know. Dean has become like a dependent child to me. I dare not be too far away from him, incase he needs me for something important. Or just something at all._

_Perhaps yes, I do divulge him too much. I answer his calls without a second thought of someone else who might need me. I have done this before; without a second thought for someone who truly needed my protection, I flew to the aid of another who was not really in need of my help. And in doing so, I abandoned someone who was moments from death. Knowing she needed my help, I left her to the mercy of the Hellhounds and did nothing to save her. _

_That is my curse. I care too much for one, and not enough for another. For Eight years I protected that one person from a terrible fate, and when she needed me the most I was elsewhere, dealing with a trivial question that could have waited. I could have saved her, but I didn't._

_Now I'm at the beck and call of a Human who didn't fulfil the purpose we rose him for. But I can't bring myself to hate him. Dean chose his path for a reason. He didn't want to be the catalyst that brought about the apocalypse; he wasn't to know Adam could be a vessel too. And of course by the time Dean did find out, it was too late to do anything about it. Adam wanted to prove himself to be a worthy child of John Winchester. He wanted to do something right by his late Father, so he chose to become Michael's sword. I should have done more to stop him. But I was too busy balancing my Heavenly duties, and my duties to Dean._

_Dear Father; forgive me. I'm sorry for not being good enough._


	3. He Was Here?

"The fact still remains we have no idea what we're dealing with right now, Dean," Sam hissed as he leaned in closer towards his brother to avoid being overheard by the scantily clad waitresses sashaying around them. Dean took a swig of his warming drink and cast an appreciative glance around before turning his attention back to Sam, who was trying to keep his temper under control. "It could be a Vampire, because the Victims are being found drained of blood with teeth-marks in their necks. But it could be a whole host of other things too. There's no way of knowing for sure without asking Bobby, or doing some more research."

Dean scoffed at the mention of the word research, leaning back in his chair casually as he let his grip slip away from the glass. "Dean are you even taking this seriously right now?" Sam snapped before he could stop himself, earning a sharp glance from a man three tables over who was trying to enjoy the show being put on by a young red-head with a Venus figure and very obviously surgically enhanced breasts. "People are dying, vanishing, and you're not even taking it seriously. Great, why don't we just go back to Bobby's and let someone else handle this?" He snapped his laptop closed and emitted a dissatisfied growl before rubbing his aching temples.

"You quite finished?" Dean asked after a lengthy pause, sitting back on the chair properly so he could lean on the table, noting the look on Sam's face. Ever since they'd averted the apocalypse, Sam had been suffering from crushing migraines that came and went without any warning. "Sammy, it's probably a nest of Vampires. I doubt anything else is going to be stupid enough to attack in a place as large as Los Angeles. But if you're so worried it could be something else, why don't you call Bobby and ask him what else leaves those kinds of markings on the Victims and drains them of their entire blood supply? I'm gonna question some of the locals, starting with the bar-tenders. They'll see all sorts of crap working a joint like this," He battled a grin from his face at the prospect of talking to the hottie behind the bar, but before he could stand up Sam raised his hand as a sign that Dean should stay seated.

"Maybe Cas knows something," He began to suggest before cutting himself short. Castiel had been missing for a substantial while now. If he did know anything, he'd have come to find them before now and told them everything. But they hadn't had so much as a peep from the Angel since the Apocalypse threat. He'd simply vanished as soon as Michael and Lucifer had been pushed back into the cage. "You're right. I'll call Bobby, see if he has anything we can use."

The younger Winchester pulled out his cell-phone as Dean reached into his jacket and removed his fake F.B.I badge from the inner pocket. Licking his lips in anticipation, he stood up and made a bee-line for the bar, his face falling when he failed to see Angel. Instead he zeroed in on a middle aged man rubbing a glass with a clean white cloth. "Hey, you the Manager?"

Will raised an eye to whoever had spoken to him, taking instant note of the badge in the man's hand. He groaned inwardly before putting down the glass and giving the 'Officer' his undivided attention. "Yes'sir I am," He replied in an adopted oily voice, resting his meaty, sweaty palms onto the bartop as he leaned a little closer to Dean. "What can I do for you today, Officer?"

Dean recoiled slightly at the pungent odor coming from the man's mouth as he replaced his badge in his jacket and sucked in a breath of clean air. "We're investigating the disappearances that have been happening lately. Just routine questioning, have you noticed anything odd lately? Weird customers coming in and just sitting in dark corners or something?"

Will let out a hearty guffaw as he wiped his lip with the back of his hand, causing Dean to raise an eyebrow as he wondered if he'd said something hysterical. "Well, I was being serious but if you want to make a joke of it you be my guest."

"No, no, it's not that." Will replied as he calmed his laughter. "It's just, we always get people sitting in the dark corners not saying anything. They're called under-age teenagers looking to get their rocks off on some of my girls." He chuckled at the very thought, quickly shutting up as Dean cast him a long, cold glance. "But uh, I'm guessing you're not meaning underage kids right?"

"S'right," Dean replied with a false smile on his lips, his eyes darting off to the side. He'd seen a whip of long blonde curls and found himself hoping it was Angel. "I'm on about adult customers. People who seem to just, materialize. Skulk in and don't order a drink, don't talk to anyone. Just sit in the dark like they're not really there. Then leave just as quietly."

Will took the time to ponder this question as he poured himself a large rum, offering the bottle and a glass to Dean once he was done. "Now you mention it, there was someone the other day. Good-looking fella, maybe the same age as you. He was damn silent, didn't say a word to anyone. To be honest, nobody even noticed him come in. I asked the Bouncers: they didn't let him in. It's like he just, warped in or something." Again Will chuckled at his own words. "Dark haired fella. Clean-shaven, wore the proverbial trench-coat. If you catch my drift."

_**Trench-Coat?!**_

"Wait wait. This guy, was his trench-coat like a Beige-y colour? Black suit underneath?" Dean's heart hammered against his ribcage as he waited for Will's answer. The Manager took an irritatingly slow gulp of his drink as he thought over the question. Dean battled the urge to grab hold of his grubby waistcoat and demand an answer from him.

"Yeah, beige trenchcoat, black suit. Pretty blank expression. He was stood off to the side of the stage when we noticed him. Few girls tried to get a reaction from him but he didn't speak or move, just stood there. We figured maybe he was a retard or something. Pretty simply looking guy. But I tell you this..."

Will took a conspirational look to his left before leaning in and beckoning Dean closer. Swallowing hard, Dean leant in as close as he dared to, holding his breath as he did so. "I think this was some kind of a stalker guy, you know what I mean? See, he didn't move, didn't speak. Until he saw one of my bartenders. Soon as he laid eyes on her, he moved over here. And he didn't say a word, just stood by the bar, down that end," He pointed to the far end next to a door marked STAFF ONLY. "And watched. I can't be sure who it was, 'cause there was Angelina, Kaitlin and Sasha working that night. But he definitely kept his eyes fixed on one of them. None of them complained about him though, so I stuck with my retard theory." Will nodded his head before his hand flew to his head and he let out a groan of displeasure. Dean raised his head to see none other then Angel standing behind the Manager, a disgruntled look on her pretty face.

"Will I've told you before, that kinda language is fucking disgusting," She scowled at the Manager before throwing Dean a grin. "You hankering for another drink, Dean?" She asked in a softer tone as Will glowered at her fondly. Dean found himself lost for words as he laughed warmly - perhaps a little too loudly, as he drew a few funny looks from the patrons.

"Actually, I was asking about the people who vanished from here recently. Wondering if you knew anything," He replied. "Then your boss here mentioned a strange stalker guy at the bar,"

Angel frowned as Dean mentioned the stalker. She hadn't told Will, but she'd seen the guy once before, three months previously. When she and Ethan had moved into their new place, she'd seen the man stood in the window of the property opposite them. Just staring into her bedroom with a somewhat confused expression. "Yeah I remember him. Really cute, but strong-silent type. First time I've ever seen him, thought maybe he was lost. He could have been foreign though, he didn't say a single word the whole time he was here. Just hung around the bar and watched us working. It got creepy after a while, but when we went to ask him to leave he'd already gone. I will admit I asked Harry to walk me to my car and follow on behind me to my house. Just in-case the guy was some kind of weirdo who was gonna follow me home and butcher me, you know. But I don't know anything about the missing people, I'm afraid. I went to school with one of them, but that was a good six years ago now. Lost contact when we graduated. Pity, she was a good friend of mine. Lacey Chambers," She added, almost as an afterthought. "So is this guy like, wanted in connection to the missing people?" Her heart was in her throat as she asked the question. To have been in such close vicinity to someone she was now suspecting to be involved in one of the biggest cases she'd ever heard of was kind of creepy.

"No! No, no," Dean reassured her quickly. "No I was just wondering about him, because he mentioned the guy was a bit, um. Creepy," He scoffed as he said the word, disdainful to use such a word about Castiel. "If, you know, he comes back or anything, gimme a call." He handed Angel a small white card with his name and cell-phone number on it before giving her his trademark smile, casting another look across her beautiful face before he headed back over to Sam, feeling distinctly more down-beat then he had when he'd gone over in the first place. "Sammy, Cas has been here."

That got his brother's attention. Sam turned his eyes onto Dean as he cocked an eyebrow in shock. "Here? As in, here in this bar?" He asked as Dean nodded vigorously. "Why would Cas come to this bar?"

"No idea. But whatever reason he's here for, it's probably something bad. I mean, when was the last time Castiel showed up somewhere and brought good tidings with him? Maybe he knows something about the missing people and he's staking-out to wait for the next abduction. Whatever the reason, I say we hang round here tonight and see if he turns up. According to the Manager and Angel, a guy matching Cas' description was here the other night standing by the stage. Nobody saw him come in, and nobody saw him leave. It's got to be Cas."

"But why here? Why now?" Sam scratched the back of his head as he racked his brain for any explanation as to why Castiel was suddenly in LA just days before they had arrived investigating the missing people. Dean shrugged helplessly in response as he folded his arms and threw another look over to Angel. She was laughing at something Will had said, her brilliant smile going full-force. Inwardly, Dean sighed softly. Angel was definitely the kind of girl he could see himself settling with one day.

One day.


End file.
